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Old February 28th, 2007, 08:48 PM   #2
cornfed
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TIM:
Behold the cave of Caerbannog!
ARTHUR:
Right! Keep me covered.
GALAHAD:
What with?
ARTHUR:
W-- just keep me covered.
TIM:
Too late!
[tic chord]
ARTHUR:
What?
TIM:
There he is!
ARTHUR:
Where?
TIM:
There!
ARTHUR:
What, behind the rabbit?
TIM:
It is the rabbit.
ARTHUR:
You silly sod!
TIM:
What?
ARTHUR:
You got us all worked up!
TIM:
Well, that's no ordinary rabbit!
ARTHUR:
Ohh.
TIM:
That's the most foul, cruel, and bad-tempered rodent you ever set eyes on!
ROBIN:
You tit! I soiled my armour I was so scared!
TIM:
Look, that rabbit's got a vicious streak a mile wide! It's a killer!
GALAHAD:
Get stuffed!
TIM:
He'll do you up a treat, mate.
GALAHAD:
Oh, yeah?
ROBIN:
You mangy Scots git!
TIM:
I'm warning you!
ROBIN:
What's he do, nibble your bum?
TIM:
He's got huge, sharp-- eh-- he can leap about-- look at the bones!
ARTHUR:
Go on, Bors. Chop his head off!
BORS:
Right! Silly little bleeder. One rabbit stew comin' right up!
TIM:
Look!
[squeak]
BORS:
Aaaugh!
[tic chord]
[clunk]
ARTHUR:
Jesus Christ!
TIM:
I warned you!
ROBIN:
I done it again!
TIM:
I warned you, but did you listen to me? Oh, no, you knew it all, didn't you? Oh, it's just a harmless little bunny, isn't it? Well, it's always the same. I always tell them--
ARTHUR:
Oh, shut up!
TIM:
Do they listen to me?
ARTHUR:
Right!
TIM:
Oh, no...
KNIGHTS:
Charge!
[squeak squeak squeak]
KNIGHTS:
Aaaaugh!, Aaaugh!, etc.
ARTHUR:
Run away! Run away!
KNIGHTS:
Run away! Run away!...
TIM:
Ha ha ha ha! Ha haw haw! Ha! Ha ha!
ARTHUR:
Right. How many did we lose?
LAUNCELOT:
Gawain.
GALAHAD:
Ector.
ARTHUR:
And Bors. That's five.
GALAHAD:
Three, sir.
ARTHUR:
Three. Three. And we'd better not risk another frontal assault. That rabbit's dynamite.
ROBIN:
Would it help to confuse it if we run away more?
ARTHUR:
Oh, shut up and go and change your armour.
GALAHAD:
Let us taunt it! It may become so cross that it will make a mistake.
ARTHUR:
Like what?
GALAHAD:
Well... ooh.
LAUNCELOT:
Have we got bows?
ARTHUR:
No.
LAUNCELOT:
We have the Holy Hand Grenade.
ARTHUR:
Yes, of course! The Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch! 'Tis one of the sacred relics Brother Maynard carries with him. Brother Maynard! Bring up the Holy Hand Grenade!
MONKS: [chanting]
Pie Iesu domine, dona eis requiem.
Pie Iesu domine, dona eis requiem. Pie Iesu domine, dona eis requiem. Pie Iesu domine, dona eis requiem.
ARTHUR:
How does it, um-- how does it work?
LAUNCELOT:
I know not, my liege.
ARTHUR:
Consult the Book of Armaments!
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